


Rainbow Bear

by spare



Series: Life, Love, & Lots of Yummy Food [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A day at the beach, Episode 4, Falling In Love, Fluff, Food, Grief, Haluhalo, Hasetsu, In Loving Memory of Vicchan, Kakigoori, M/M, Nijikuma, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, Regret, Sexual Tension, Shirokuma - Freeform, Slice of Life, Summer, VictUuri, beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 08:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spare/pseuds/spare
Summary: “What, my skating isn't 'sexy' enough for you?” Yuuri counters in mock offense.“I haven't tackled you to the rink and kissed you silly yet, have I?” Victor rhetorically replies, fingers carding through Yuuri's locks and massaging his scalp. “Until I've done that, consider your Eros a work in progress.”A slice-of-life-ish piece set between episodes 4 and 5 of the anime.Out on the beach together, more than a month before the Chuu-Shikoku Kyuushuu Figure Skating Championships, Katsuki Yuuri continues to sort out his feelings for his silver-haired coach.





	Rainbow Bear

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of a **heads up** : Yuuri remembers and mourns the loss of his pet poodle Vicchan while out swimming with Victor and Makkachin.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** We have Mitsurou Kubo, Sayo Yamamoto, Kenji Miyamoto, and Studio MAPPA to thank for the masterpiece that is _Yuri!!! on Ice_. The story below is a free fanwork published solely for entertainment.

**_Hasetsu, the first Saturday of August_ **

They're straining side by side, sweat beading on their brows—

“So big,” Victor says, exhaling audibly. “Why is it so big, Yuuri?”

Why, indeed. “I-it's not too much, is it?” Yuuri asks, concerned.

“I'm fine,” Victor assures him. “It's just, ah,” Victor's breath hitches, “I haven't done something like this in a while. Obviously.”

Yuuri frowns. “If you want to stop—”

“I don't,” Victor rasps. “Besides, we're almost there, aren't we?”

“ _Arf!_ ” Makkachin agrees.

Just your typical picturesque midsummer morning: the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying, and the sky is clear and azure-bright. The sea breeze ruffles their hair and clothes as Victor and Yuuri make their way along the promenade that borders the beach, Makkachin not far behind, carrying duffle bags, a large umbrella, and an even larger crateful of coconuts (the trees at Yu-topia's front yard aren't just there for show) between them. Mari-neechan had asked them to deliver the latter to the Nishigoris, who are running a seaside kiosk for an acquaintance while Ice Castle Hasetsu gets its central air conditioning fixed.

“Coconuts!” Axel, Lutz, and Loop announce at their approach. “Yuuri's brought the coconuts, Papa!”

“I can see that.” Nishigori Takeshi cheerfully jogs over to help them with the heavy crate. “Thanks a bunch, guys,” he says in English. “Here for some sand and sun, I take it?”

“And some sea,” Victor replies amiably. “Now's as good a time as any.”

“You should try wakeboarding!” Lutz suggests.

“Or the banana boat!” Axel chimes in. “That's also fun!”

“You can rent everything here!” finishes Loop, holding up the kiosk's rentals sheet. “We'll even take your pictures for free!” 

_And post them all online within the hour, I'll bet,_ Yuuri appends wryly, and suppresses a shudder at the very real possibility of Phichit-kun joining forces with the Nishigori triplets should both parties ever meet. Social media—the entire internet, even—may never be the same. “Much appreciated.” Yuuri manages a smile. “We'll come by if we need anything.”

“I'll fix you up some extra-special kakigoori if and when,” rejoins Nishigori, giving them a thumbs-up. “As thanks, y'know, for the coconuts. So have fun, and enjoy your date, yeah?”

Yuuri's face warms. “It's not—”

“We will,” Victor says, all sunny smiles and princely sparkles, and waves their umbrella like a flag. “Let's go, Yuuri!” And with that, both Victor and Makkachin go running on ahead towards the shimmering sea.

Leaving Yuuri torn whether to immediately follow after them both, or clarify to Nishigori that this beach outing with Victor isn't really a _date_ date, just...

_“What do you want me to be to you, Yuuri?”_

... Something.

Yuuri shakes his head. “See you later,” is what he ends up telling Nishigori instead, before jogging off to join his silver-haired coach and Makkachin.

~o~

They dash to the surf—duffles set down, umbrella duly erected; glasses, flip-flops and most of their clothes discarded a safe enough distance from the lapping waves—in their swimming shorts, bare feet leaving shallow tracks in the sand. The seawater surges and swirls around their ankles, their calves, the rest of their bodies, pleasantly cool against sun-warmed skin. Heaven, or something quite like it.

Hasetsu's newest tourism ambassador seems to think so, anyway.

“This is nice,” Victor hums happily. “Whether it's the onsen or the waterfall or the sea, Hasetsu really is like heaven on Earth, isn't it?”

Yuuri sneaks a quick glance at his—

(chest)

—His _coach_ , then looks away just as abruptly. With his glasses off, everything's a blur, of course, but it just feels rude to stare. “Yeah.” Yuuri swallows, tasting salt. “I guess it is.”

“The islands look even closer from here,” Victor goes on, indicating the islets dotting Hasetsu Bay. “Maybe we should swim laps around them. It would double as our off-ice training for today, Yuuri!”

Yuuri quirks an eyebrow at this, but keeps his eyes trained towards the horizon. “Today's our day off, though,” he protests evenly. “And besides, we'd have to leave Makkachin on the shore.”

As if on cue, Makkachin soon paddles over to their side, wuffing and snorting when a random wave of water rolls and crashes through. Victor laughs and gently pats the poodle's thoroughly soaked head.

“True,” Victor concedes. “We can't have that, can we?”

To which Makkachin barks as if to say _Of course you can't,_ tail twitching in the water emphatically.

Watching them, Yuuri couldn't help but chuckle as well, although it's bittersweet; he is reminded of a few summers past, before he'd left Hasetsu, when Vicchan used to accompany him on his morning runs to the beach. (Granted, he'd never really swum with Vicchan before; they'd always stuck to the shore, the toy poodle pouncing and yipping at the sea slugs and crabs and whatever oddities the tide would invariably bring in.) Why _hadn't_ he visited even once during the last five years? All of the reasons he'd thought were good enough before—college, training, unnecessary expense, and anyway he already called home pretty often so what would be the point—now seem like so many empty excuses.

And they are, Yuuri decides, his vision blurring further. Like a fool, he'd believed there'd always be another time, another summer— and then, scarcely ten days after his twenty-third birthday, he'd up and learned that there won't. Not one where he could run along the coastline with Vicchan like before.

_Vicchan, gomen._

A nearby water splash stirs him from his thoughts.

“Yuuri?”

Victor's voice is soft; curious. Yuuri sniffles and figures that he must look a sight, choking up in the middle of all this sea and sunshine.

“Sorry, I—” _‘Got something in my eye,’_ Yuuri would have lied, but his throat locks up around the words. It wouldn't have been fair either way, he supposes; not to Vicchan or Victor. “Sorry,” he repeats instead.

He waits for Victor to say something in response, but the man is oddly quiet for a beat or two. “Eh? For what?” Victor utters at last, tone flippant. “Not for coming with me to the beach, I hope.”

“No,” Yuuri returns with a fond, faint smile. _Meeting me where I am, as usual._ “Victor—” He turns around, a step forward, facing Victor head on, “being with you is something I won't ever feel sorry for, I'll have you know.”

“Oh.” Likely from the sun, Victor's skin has turned rather pink. “Ah, well,” Victor clears his throat, “that's good, then. Yuuri.”

Feeling suddenly bashful, Yuuri redirects his gaze to a clump of seaweed floating by. “Y-yeah.”

They both settle into a relaxed sort of silence afterward, simply basking in the sunlight and soaking in the water. Makkachin swims in lazy circles around them like the floppiest of floppy-eared, curliest of curly-haired, most irresistibly adorable shark in the world. Yuuri scratches behind the dog's ears when he floats close enough by ( _I reckon Vicchan would have loved to meet you, old boy_ ), then lays back to stare up at the summer sky.

(Not for the first time, it occurs to him that Victor's eyes are much the same color.)

(It's the color of solace, of remembrance.)

(The color of hope.)

~o~

It's maybe sometime between ten and eleven when they drag themselves ashore.

Everyone's hair is a soaked, tangled mess by this point, of course—Makkachin's most of all, and against a background of sand and sunlit surf, the water-drenched poodle's unfiltered photo (#a day at the beach) becomes Victor's first Instagram post of the day. Incidentally, Yuuri soon getting tackled by said poodle to the sand would have been the second, but by the time Victor's able to stop shaking from laughter long enough to take a steady shot, Makkachin then duly decides to pounce on _him_ next. A lopsided tickle fight ensues, two against one, with neither side decisively coming out on top.

(Unless you count Yuuri somehow ending up—literally—on top of one Victor Nikiforov, their gazes locking, their faces close; the spell broken by Yuuri rolling away to avoid dripping saltwater down Victor's perfect nose—)

(And also to trounce tempting trouble someplace south of the waistband, although Yuuri'd sooner swear off eating katsudon forever than own up to _that_.)

All that salt and sand needs rinsing off, in any case, so off to the outdoor showers they go. Yuuri stands directly opposite Victor under the twin shower heads, letting the cold spray of water wash away the worst of the dirt (both physical and, ahem, otherwise). He scrubs at his hair, head slightly tipped back—they should've brought some soap and shampoo, really—and lets his eyes fall shut.

Only to meet Victor's own blue ones when he opens them again, an unreadable expression on the older man's face.

“What?” Yuuri asks, blinking. His cheek isn't still that badly smudged, is it?

“... Nothing,” Victor blithely answers back. “Only— your hair,” the man indicates his own head, “it's sticking up in all directions, yes? Like a ninja.”

“Fictional ninjas, perhaps,” Yuuri replies, lips twitching, recalling the one time they'd marathoned ninja movies until dawn in Victor's room. (Try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to regret it, even though they'd had to put off practice by half a day as a result.) “I believe it's more of an 'anime' thing, myself.”

Victor hmms. “Regardless, I'm thinking maybe you should style your hair like that for your short program. It's rugged and wild.” Reaching around the shower stand, he ruffles Yuuri's hair teasingly. “Very sexy.”

Yuuri could _feel_ the blush suffusing his face and ears and neck, but musters up a scoff. “What, my skating isn't 'sexy' enough for you?” he counters in mock offense.

“I haven't tackled you to the rink and kissed you silly yet, have I?” Victor rhetorically replies, fingers carding through Yuuri's locks and massaging his scalp. “Until I've done that, consider your Eros a work in progress.”

Head down, Yuuri bites his bottom lip. _Huh._ His skin prickles, and not just because of the water temperature. For one insane, insensible instant he is tempted to retort, _‘But what if I tackle-kiss **you** first?’_

The notion passes, however, and all Yuuri says is, “Right; I will.”

Afterwards, Victor may have thrown an offhand remark regarding Yuuri's hair ( _“So thick, although it's coarse since you only ever shampoo it, Yuuri!”_ ); and afterwards, Yuuri _may_ have been cheeky enough to broach the unbroachable topic of Victor's own hair in turn (as well as ask, as a follow-up, if Victor's daily breakfast of kelp tea—which Yuuri's father, still with a full head of hair at fifty-four, swears by—is working any wonders yet). And perhaps Victor then retaliates by briskly washing Yuuri's hair in earnest, not quite evil grin in place, prompting Yuuri to playfully return the unsolicited (but not entirely unwelcome) 'favor'.

To Yuuri, at least, the finer details are lost in a rush of racing hearts and running water— and Makkachin romping helter-skelter between them both, but for the sound of Victor's breathless laughter mingling with his; but for the silky smooth softness—

_Like silver-spun strands of starlight_

—of Victor's hair beneath his fingers.

(Not for the first time, Yuuri wonders which should worry him more: that he's apparently turning into an especially crappy poet, or a borderline creepy pervert.)

  


( _Probably both,_ or so Yuuri would muse a while later, in between drying off and getting dressed and going back with Victor and Makkachin to the kiosk.)

~o~

Nishigori serves up his promised 'extra-special kakigoori' in two plus-sized sealed paper cups labelled _Lily's_ : shaved ice liberally drizzled with evaporated milk, topped with toasted grated coconut, a slice of banana, and a small scoop each of avocado, melon, and purple yam, with little blocks of three-color agar jelly, a spoonful of sweetened red beans, _and_ a bite-sized piece of custard pudding to even out the mix.

“Wow,” Victor exclaims, clearly amazed at the sheer variety of toppings on the treat, “it's very... colorful, isn't it?”

“That's why the owner calls it 'nijikuma'; rainbow bear,” Nishigori says. “Like shirokuma, but in seven colors.”

Victor frowns slightly. “'Shirokuma'?”

“It's a local dessert that its inventor dubbed 'polar bear'; well, a 'white bear', literally,” explains Yuuri. “Shiro means 'white' and kuma means 'bear'.”

“It's Kyuushuu's special kakigoori,” Axel further fills in. Lutz and Loop duly whip out the kiosk's menu board behind her, displaying a colored chalk drawing of shaved ice in a bowl with milk, sweet beans, jelly, and fruit on it. “Instead of just adding flavored syrup, shirokuma has milk, azuki, fruits, and sanshoku kanten—” She taps the 'jelly' portion of the visual, “See?”

“And if you look at it from the top,” adds Loop, altering the drawing accordingly, “it looks like shirokuma; a polar bear.”

“Oh!” Victor blinks. “It does, doesn't it?”

“I guess?” Yuuri tentatively agrees. “If you squint...”

“Anyway,” Lutz gestures at their paper cups, “since our version of shirokuma has all seven colors of 'niji'—a rainbow—on it, it's officially 'nijikuma'... rainbow bear!” And so saying, she spreads her hands wide, Axel and Loop mirroring her pose, but with a chalky menu-board rainbow held between them. “So there. Now, eat up before all the ice melts completely!”

Nishigori's phone rings—it's Yuuko-chan, wanting to double-check something about the rink—and after exchanging _Hellos_ , and with the triplets soon engrossed in feeding, filming, and photographing Makkachin all at the same time, Victor and Yuuri are left to manage by themselves, sitting side by side on the stools set up along the counter.

“All right, then.” Unwrapping his plastic spoon, Victor cheerily scoops up a bit of the jelly and milk-laden ice. “Here you go, Yuuri! Say 'ah'~!”

Yuuri holds up his own spoon like a shield, his face burning. “I-I-I can feed myself!”

Yuuri definitely can, and so he does, never mind Victor batting those long, pale eyelashes at him and pouting cutely when Yuuri remains unmoved. Fruit and sweet beans and jelly meld with the shaved ice melting in his mouth, creating a magnificent medley of flavors.

“So cold,” Victor sulks, forlornly eating the spoonful of nijikuma Yuuri has just declined. The silver-haired man's tone of voice more than implies that he isn't just talking about dessert. “Well, at least this one's sweet. Unlike _certain other people_.”

Said 'certain other people' glances over at Victor from behind his glasses, surprised to see his coach so miffed. And over shaved ice, of all things? “Um,” Yuuri says, “you could have my pudding if you want. You know—” He shrugs, not really knowing what else to put out there, “Too many calories.”

“It's your pudding,” Victor returns, face shuttered. “You should eat it.”

“It's yours if you want it,” Yuuri presses on, turning his paper cup around so the side with the untouched piece of pudding is closest to Victor. “I don't really like sweets all that much, anyway.” Which is one big lie, as anyone who's known Yuuri long enough could assert, but with Nishigori and the triplets otherwise occupied, none are able to call him out on it. 

Victor nevertheless seems to see right through this. “Yuuri,” he huffs, the beginning of a lecture if there was one; except partway through his expression considerably softens into something that makes Yuuri's heart turn. “Whether you like it or not,” continues Victor gently, “it's still your pudding, isn't it? You should value it more.”

Victor's eyes are so very, very blue, Yuuri thinks. “I know,” he replies, gaze dropping down to where he'd dipped his spoon into the ice and drenched milk all over his avocado. “But that's why I'd rather you have it.”

Silence.

Well, both he and Victor fall silent, but the sea goes on roaring in the distance, the gulls persist on crying, and the Nishigoris, with Makkachin sitting attentively beside them, continue talking to Yuuko-chan in rapid-fire Japanese.

The world keeps right on turning, in other words, but Yuuri finds himself holding his breath all the same.

“Is that so,” is what Victor finally says, the usual playfulness back in his voice and yet— not.

(There's something else in there, something Yuuri couldn't quite give a name to as yet, because words are too troublesome and Victor deserves better than that, better than anything Yuuri could ever hope to give.)

“Don't mind if I do, then,” Victor goes on, happily helping himself to the pudding in Yuuri's cup and eating it all up. “No take-backsies. And thank you, Yuuri.”

_Thank **you**._

Yuuri smiles. “Don't thank me yet,” he jokingly rejoins. “Actually, I was going to trade it for the banana. And some melon, if you please.”

“Yuuri!”

~end~

**Author's Note:**

> Rewatching some scenes from YoI for this fic has made me realize just how precocious Axel, Lutz, and Loop are. I mean, apart from being very tech- and SNS-savvy _and_ being able to converse well enough with Victor (presumably in English) to offer organizing Onsen on Ice, _they can already write kanji_. LOL Definitely did not learn that in preschool. Anyway, I've long wanted to write fic with these three, and now I have! Huzzah! \\( ^ - ^ )/
> 
> Shirokuma (lit. 'white bear' in Japanese) is a variant of kakigoori (shaved ice) from southern Kyuushuu that has milk, fruit, and agar jelly. In that regard, it's pretty similar to haluhalo (lit. 'mix-mix' in Tagalog and means 'mixed together'), which is a summer treat from the Philippines. (Fun fact: Ministop, a convenience store chain in Japan, has been selling their version of haluhalo for over twenty summers now. One of the flavors is shirokuma. :D) Nijikuma (lit. 'rainbow bear' in Japanese) is my utterly made-up fusion of the two.
> 
> Thank you for reading the sixth fic in this series!<3 The next one (lucky number seven!) will also be summer-themed, but with a spooky/supernatural vibe, where Yuuri and Victor investigate The Seven Mysteries of Hasetsu and try out the Saturday night market. However, since September's bound to be busy, it'll be up maybe mid- to late October. Until then, thank you for your patience and continued support! **Update:** [The Seven Mysteries fic is up!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12349305/chapters/28087800)


End file.
